Pretty, Little, Rich Girl

I'm the Regina George of my School.

*Morgan"s POV*

Sleep did not come easily.

The bench I was lying on was cold, and it made my butt go numb.

The scary hobo across the street was staring at me like I had 3 heads.

And my phone (although dead) was vibrating like crazy.

It was also  starting to rain.

Today is just not my day.

"Why me?' I whispered to nobody in particular. I shook out my damp hair; small, shiny water droplets flew effortlessly to the ground. I knew from paying attention in second grade science that the watter would soon evaporate into the air and soft of be recycled into new clouds and new rain. Or snow, hail, or sleet.

I sighed. Why was I thinking about the water cycle? Of all things?

Resting my head of my forearm, I pushed my stupid water thoughts to the back of my mind and let my mind drift.

It stopped drifting when it hit a big bundle of memories.

Christmas 2001.

I was 4, well it was my 4th birthday. I was never wild about birthdays. Especially not mine. Being on Christmas, it was tough to get people to come to my birthday parties for many families went on vacations and things of that sort. Not that anyone would of showed up if it was a different date.

Morgan was never popular (yes, I talk about myself in third person. get over it.) she was always shy, quiet, reserved and tend to keep to herself. Myself. I found that after my mom died when I was 4, it was easiest to keep my feelings bottled up. Which in long run, resulted in my eating disorder blah blah blah.

After Harry and I cut ties when I was entering middle school, I decided to give myself a makeover.

Not a makeover, makeover but a personality change.

No longer was I the, overweight-turned anorexic freak, but the "it" girl.

The girl everyone envied, loved, and wanted to be.

I was the Regina George of my school.

Living my life was far from easy! I had standards I had to maintain! I had to always be a size 1 or less. I could never date a guy for shorter than a month (that would hurt my reputation), and I had to pretend to be nice to almost all of the wannabe's!

Kidding!

Although, I do have to look nice everyday, and fake a smile.

Nobody knew it but I have been in a funk since my mom passed away and Harry (my rock) and I ended our friendship.

You could say I'm depressed, but I would never let anyone know that. I just plaster my million dollar smile on my face, and put up with life's everyday challenges.

Like: 1) my dad not letting me buy a new Juicy Couture winter wardrobe. 2) Harry and 3) me being stuck in the middle of California with no money.

I sighed inwardly. My mom was the only person who understood me, saw past all the glitter and princess costumes. Although I was quite young, I have always been wise beyond my years. A gift and a curse.

I miss my mom so much, and with Jasmine around trying her very best to be a parental figure, it made me feel even worse.

Jasmine, my new step mom tries so hard to be a good "mom" but fails miserably. For one, she is barely home. She spends more time getting her nails done and getting Starbucks with her friends (who, act like they are 18..ew), then she spends at home with me and my dad. And when she is there, my dad is off doing whatever work he HAS to do. Also, I am pretty sure she's having an affair with one of her friends husbands. But it's not my place to be in her business. Well, I am considerably her daughter, but I really don't care to be honest. She means like nothing to me. I don't think she matters to my dad either.

Whatever.

My mom, when she was here, was adored by my dad, and equally as much by me.

I remember so vividly while I barely remember what happened last night!

My last memory of her, my last happy Christmas, the last time I'd ever some what,care for birthdays.

It was 2001, my birthday; my mom woke me up around 5:30am because I have always loved getting up early on Christmas.

Her blonde hair was still in a messy, pony tail for she just woke up. Her face was free of all makeup and boy did she look good.

She always had a cute, baby face. Full, pink lips which, when she smiled, caused dimples to cave into her cheeks.

Now that I think about it, her dimples remind me of Harry.

His curly, curly hair. His shining, green eyes. The way he sauntered into a room. The way his style made him look like something out a 1960's memoir. ("vintage" he calls it.) And oh my...his dimples. Along with that award winning smirk.

It was enough to make any girl swoon.

But not me.

I laughed to myself. I probably made my subconscious think that I actually was attracted to Harry.

UM NO.

We're just friends.

Are we friends?

No. Never.

Mom would want me to be friends with him again. She wouldn't let me act or live the way I live. God, I miss her so much. Tears sprang into my eyes once again and I sat up on the bench.

"How can one go from laughing to herself to crying in mere seconds while sitting lost, and empty handed in Calabasas?" A slow, English accent spoke, whisking me out of my thoughts.

My body shot up into a standing postion. The male's green eyes danced with amusement but I noticed a slight edge to them.

Speaking of Harry.

I blinked a few times, tried to think of a snarky comment, failed miserably and decided to just hug him.

I ran up to him and threw my thin arms around him.

Am I HUGGING Harry?

Yes, and it feels completely and utterly right.

_________________________________________________________________________

AUTHORS NOTE!!!!

hay babies ily all dont forget that ok? you can message me here if you ever need advice or help(:

DID YA'LL LIKE THIS CHAPTER IDK I thought it was confusing so please let me know if it was!!

BUT THERES A PART 2 COMING SOON SO LOOK FOR ITTTTTT

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